Chapter XXIII: Appendix: No. 1.—Page 2, Vol. I (3)

It is certain that the artificial fire called _Greek fire_, _sea fire_, or _liquid fire_, the composition of which is found in the Greek and Latin historians, was very different from that which the Orientals began at this time to make use of, and the effect of which was the more surprising, from the cause of it being entirely unknown; for whereas the first was prepared of wax, pitch, sulphur, and other combustible materials, there was nothing in this but naphtha or petrol, of which there were springs near Bagdad, like those of which the ancients speak, near Ecbatana and on the frontiers of Media. All naturalists agree that this bituminous matter takes fire very easily, and that it is impossible to extinguish it with anything but sand, vinegar, and urine. An experiment was made with it before Alexander, by lighting a great quantity of it by trains, which burnt for a long time without being able to be extinguished; a buffoon, even, having been rubbed with it, the fire injured him so seriously that there was great difficulty in saving his life. And yet, notwithstanding the ancients were acquainted with it, it is not known that they frequently employed it in war, nor that it entered into the composition of the true Greek fire, invented, according to common opinion, by Callinichus, under Constantine Pogonatus, but which is, notwithstanding, more ancient by many centuries. Thus it is very probable that the Orientals, not having made any use of it before this siege, Ebn-el-Mejas employed it successfully as a new invention; and that the Christians, on account of the resemblance, called it the Greek fire, from the idea they conceived that it might be the same as that with which the whole Levant was acquainted. This fire having been in use for the defence of besieged places, was called _oleum incendiarium_, _oleum medicum_; and it was employed in the time of Valentinian, under whom Vegetius, a military author, who gives the composition of it, wrote his work. Æneas, an ancient author quoted by Polybius, also speaks of it in his _Treatise upon the Defence of Cities_, and Callinichus added nothing new to it, except the machines, or copper pipes, by means of which they employed it for the first time at sea, and burnt the Arabian fleet near Cyzicus. The Greeks continued afterwards to use these machines, with which they armed their fire-ships, and never communicated the knowledge of it to any other nation; any more than did the Mahometans their naphtha fire, when they had once learned the practice. Thus the names became confounded by the ignorance of the two nations; the Greeks calling, with much reason, the artificial fire of the Mussulmans, _Media fire_, and the Latins comprising both under the name of _Greek fire_; as the Orientals afterwards called gunpowder _naphtha_, from the relation they found between it and that fire which it made them abandon.

_No. 18._

_Memoir upon the Forest of Saron, or the Enchanted Forest of Tasso._

Most of the places in Palestine, in which battles were fought between the Franks and the Saracens, were, towards the end of the eighteenth century, the theatre of many conflicts between the French and the Mussulmans. The French, in 1799, put the Syrians to flight in the neighbourhood of Arsur, on the same spot where Richard gained a great victory over Saladin. We feel pleasure in presenting to our readers the very interesting Memoir of M. Paultre, who made the campaign in Syria, and who identified the forest of Saron, or the enchanted forest of Tasso.

“The 24 Ventose, an 7 (14th of March, 1799), our army, leaving Jaffa to march upon St. Jean d’Acre, after an hour and a half’s progress, arrived on the edge of a torrent, which flowed from Lidda, and fell into the sea at a short distance on our left; the crossing of this torrent presented many difficulties to our artillery.

“Before us was a plain of about a league in width, but which, on our left, extended to the sea, where it was inclosed by _dunes_, or small sand-hills, covered with verdure; whilst on our right, it extended for two or three leagues, and was lost in the declivities of the mountains of Gofna and Naplouse, called by the Hebrews, Mount Garizim. The torrent we had just passed was the ancient boundary between the tribes of Dan and Benjamin with that of Ephraim, on the territory of which we were about to march.

“The plain appeared to be closed before us by a wooded ascent, extending from the principal chain which ran along the plains of Palestine, on our left, quite to the seashore; our route was through these woods, and it would have been dangerous to approach them without having reconnoitred them; the more so from our knowing the Syrian army to be at a small distance from us, and it might be expected they had thrown some parties into them, to oppose our passage, and take the advantage which difficult and covered places might offer them. This forest, placed upon a very elevated hill, presented to us a picturesque aspect, which pleasingly recalled the sites of our beautiful wooded countries of France.

“The French general availed himself of the moment which the passage of the torrent retarded the march of the army, to have the different issues of this forest reconnoitred by our vanguard, and to assure himself that the roads were practicable. At nine o’clock in the morning, the general who commanded the cavalry informed him that the route was free, that there was no party of the enemy in the woods, and that the army might advance with safety. According to this advice, the march was resumed, and after proceeding for an hour over a level plain, we began to enter the wood, and ascend a hill, where the road became very difficult for our pieces and our carriages. The route we followed appeared to be very little frequented, although our guides assured us it was the high road to Jaffa, St. Jean d’Acre, and Damascus. Sands, rocks, bushes, ravines, and steep hills, rendered our march very painful; it might have been said that routes had never been traced in these cantons; and I cannot better compare that which we followed than to the cross-roads of our least-frequented forests in France. Branches of trees, whole trunks, fallen from age or accident, with enormous rocks, at every step barred the way, and our sappers had infinite trouble to clear a passage for our carriages and loaded camels. If the enemy had known how to take advantage of the circumstance, and had augmented our difficulties by some redoubts or barricades of trees, it would have been impossible for us to have forced the passage; some parties of infantry, or only some armed peasants, would have been able to do us much injury, and entirely have stopped the march of our army, in places already nearly impassable by their nature. But happily, we had to do with enemies who had no suspicion of even the first elements of military tactics; for, whilst our columns traversed with so much difficulty these woody and rocky mountains, where it would have been so easy to stop us, and fight us with advantage, they awaited us peaceably, four leagues further on, in a clear plain, where our artillery and our manœuvres gave us every advantage over them; as they had good reason to know on the morrow. After a painful march of two leagues, across the forest, the army halted on issuing from the wood, and took up a position on the northern side of the hill, near the village of Meski, where our headquarters were established. A torrent flowed at a small distance in front of our position; and our light troops, who had already passed it, informed us that they could perceive, in a vast plain which extended from the side of St. Jean d’Acre, parties of Syrian and Mameluke cavalry, which indicated the neighbourhood of the enemy’s army. Dispositions were then taken to keep us in readiness, in case they should march to attack us; but the evening and the night passed without a blow being struck; and, on the morrow, after having crossed the torrent without opposition, we presented ourselves before them in battle-array in the plain of Quoquoun, at the foot of the mountains of Naplouse, and, after a slight affair, we drove them back to the plain of Esdrelon, whence they effected their retreat upon St. Jean d’Acre.

“_Description of the Forest of Saron._—The woods we had just crossed are known in the country under the name of the Forest of Saron; they extend over a vast hill, which is one of the western counterforts of the chain which separates the valley of the Jordan from the plains of Palestine, and which is itself a prolongation of Mount Libanus. This hill, designated by the Hebrews, Mount Saron, is detached from the principal chain below the city of Naplouse, and extends to the sea, where it terminates by low rocks and hills, between Jaffa and Arsouf, the ancient Apollonius; it may be of eight or nine leagues in length, from Mount Garizim, where it quits the principal chain, to the seashore; its mean width is between two and three leagues, and its height is progressive, from Naplouse to the shore of the Mediterranean, where it terminates in rocks and hills of a moderate height. It is bordered on the north by the torrent of Arsouf (Naher-el-Hadder), which has its source below Naplouse, in Mount Garizim; passes near the ruins of ancient Antipatris, and falls into the sea near Arsouf, after a course of seven or eight leagues. To the south, it is parallel with the torrent of Lidda, the ancient Disopolis, which rises in Mount Acrabatene, off Jericho, near Gofna and Gazer, passes Lidda, and falls into the sea at about a league north of Jaffa, after a course of from eight to ten leagues. These two torrents flow parallel with each other, and make almost the same turns, being directed by the declivity of the same hill. The mean distance between their beds is from five to six leagues, which was the width of the land of the ancient tribe of Ephraim, upon the centre of which extended Mount Saron, whose base, two or three leagues wide, terminates at these torrents, by two little lateral plains, of a league in width, or thereabouts.

“The forest covers the side of the hill, from the principal chain to within three-quarters of a league of the seashore; which gives it a length of from seven to ten leagues, and from two to three in width. The chain of Mounts Acrabatene and Garizim appeared to me barren, or covered only with brushwood. The declivities of Mount Saron are more steep and broken on the north than on the south side; its base is a limestone rock, which, in many places of the forest, rises above the surface in great blocks, heaped one upon another. In general, I cannot better compare the sites of this part of Palestine, than to those of the environs of Fontainebleau. The forest of Saron is composed solely of oaks, of the species designated by the ancients, _Quercus cerrus_; its leaves are more smooth and less indented than those of our common oaks. The capsule of the acorns is of very large dimensions; I have seen many of from ten to twelve lines in diameter, at their opening, and which had contained acorns of that size; the scales or shells which cover this capsule were not rounded and placed one upon another, as with that of the oaks of Burgundy, but were terminated in points, and bent outwards in a volute form, or like little hooked points, which has obtained for this oak the name of _Quercus cunita_; the leaves were covered with those tubercles, known in commerce as gall-nuts. These oaks did not appear to me to be susceptible of gaining any considerable size; most of them, although announcing great age, might be embraced by a single man, and had, at most, a square of from seven to eight inches. The trunk was knotty and not very straight, and in few cases was more than from twenty-five to thirty feet high; their top was rather orbicular than pyramidal, like that of our apple and chestnut-trees of Europe. Their bark was, however, more smooth and less furrowed than that of our oaks of the same age. In general, the growth of these trees was nearly like that in the gravelly woods of the dry and elevated coasts of Lower Burgundy, and I believe that the same cause, want of depth of vegetable earth and moisture, may produce this resemblance, although under different climates. And yet I suspect the wood to be very hard, and of good quality; but being knotty, twisted, and of small size, it can be of very little use for building purposes: thus, Solomon, to build his temple, was obliged to get his timber from Libanus, whilst the forest of Saron was at the very gates of Jerusalem. Our first Crusaders, at the time of the siege of the holy city, being obliged to bring thither the wood for the construction of their machines and towers of attack, complained that this forest could only furnish them with pieces of small dimension, which rendered their building labours long and difficult. Perhaps, since that period, there has been no occasion for having recourse to this forest, which now is only used by the inhabitants of the neighbourhood, who cut, on its outskirts, the wood they stand in need of. The government takes no notice of a property which can be turned to no public profit; considering the difficulty of transporting squared timber, in a country where carriages are not used, and where everything is carried upon the backs of camels; besides, so little wood is used for firing in hot climates, that this forest cannot have much value for that purpose even.

“I have now to prove that this forest of Saron was that in which our first Crusaders, at the siege of Jerusalem in 1099, went to cut their timber for the construction of the machines and towers they employed in the attack of the city.

“According to William of Tyre, it was a Syrian who pointed it out to the duke of Normandy and the count of Flanders. This historian places it at a distance of seven or eight miles from Jerusalem, and remarks that the trees of this forest being of small growth, and not capable of furnishing the strong timber of which they stood in need, the difficulty of procuring any other in a country in which woods were very rare, obliged them to form these machines of pieces fastened together, which required much time and labour.

“Casu affuit quidam fidelis indigena natione Syrus, qui in valles quasdam secretiores, sex aut septem ab urbe distantes milliaribus quosdam de principibus direxit, ubi arbores, etsi non ad conceptum opus aptas penitùs, tamen ad aliquem modum bonas invenerunt plures.”

William of Tyre is mistaken in the distances, when stating this forest to be six or seven miles from Jerusalem, whilst it is really ten or eleven leagues from it. He places it likewise in a deep valley, which could only be correct if considered with reference to the mountains of Gosna and Naplouse, from which the Crusaders might have descended to cut the wood of which they stood in need.

“Raoul of Caën, equally a contemporary historian, is more exact in the placing of this forest, and proves to us in an irrefutable manner, that it was that of Saron in which the Crusaders went to cut the timbers for the siege; for he places it at the foot of the mountains of Naplouse, exactly where it now exists.

“Lucus erat in montibus, et montes ad Hyerusalem remoti ei, quà modò Neapolis, olim Sebasta, ante Sychar dictus est, propiores, adhuc ignota nostratibus via, nunc celebris et fermè peregrinatium unica.”—_Rad. Cad._ cap. 121.

“In fact, to come from St. Jean d’Acre to Jerusalem, it is necessary to pass through this forest; and I do not know how the Crusaders could pass it without observing it, in their march from Antioch to the holy city. Apparently having followed the shores of the sea from Cæsarea to Jaffa, and the high hills that were on their left, prevented their seeing it.

“Le Perè Maimbourg does better; knowing that Palestine is a country in which woods have at all times been rare, in his History of the Crusades,’ he doubts the existence of this forest, which is, to the best of my belief, the only one in these cantons.

“Tasso, whose poetical and rich imagination delighted in creating so many wonderful things, was not stopped by such trifling considerations, and in his _Jerusalem Delivered_, the forest of Saron has supplied him with one of the finest episodes of his poem.

“I must here hazard some ideas upon the origin of the name of the forest, of the city, and of the country of Saron. M. D’Anville, in his map of Palestine, gives to the part of the territory of the tribe of Ephraim, comprised between the torrent of Lidda and that of Apollonias, the name of _Saronas_, which he writes as the name of the country; and it is precisely on this spot that the forest of Saron exists, of which, perhaps, M. D’Anville had no kind of knowledge. He likewise places between these two torrents above Lidda, a city called Thamnath Sara, in a country which he denominates _Tamnitica_, which now forms part of the forest where Mount Saron again unites with the principal chain.

“In the map of the Holy Land, by M. Robert, after the manuscripts of the Sieurs Sanson, there is a city of Sarona, situated between Lidda and Antipatris, towards the centre of the present forest. He makes this city a royal city of the Hebrews. He places, as M. D’Anville does, the city of Thamnath Sara; and at a short distance to the north, a city of Ozensara.

“The resemblance of these different names leads me to think they may be all formed from the primitive _Sar_, which, in many languages, signifies oaks, woods, forests as Diodorus points out, in book v., when saying that the Gauls gave the name of _Saronides_ to certain philosophers of their country, because they dwelt in forests of oaks, and taught under the shade of those trees. We have preserved this _sar_ in the word _sarman_, the wood of the vine; in _serpe_ (or _sarpe_, low Breton), an instrument to cut wood; _surbacane_, a perforated stick, to throw small arrows or other projectiles; _sarse_, a wooden cask; _esserter_, or _essarter_, to pull up bushes in a place about to be cultivated.

“I leave it to pens more versed than mine in the science of etymology, to follow this subject in a more learned and certain manner.

_No. 19._

_Ralph Dicet._

Ralph Dicet was of London, and lived, as it is said, in the reign of John; he was a man remarkable for his piety and learning.

He says: “In 1185, the king of England (Henry II.) convoked the conventual abbots, the counts and barons, near the Fountain of the Clerks,[136] at London.

“After having heard the patriarch, and the master of the Hospitallers, the king entreated all who were present to send to Jerusalem all the assistance in their power. They then deliberated whether it was proper for the king to go in person to Palestine, or whether he ought to remain in England, to govern it, as he had engaged to do, before the assembled church. The king promised to furnish succours, in men and money, to repress all violences and iniquities of every kind, and that equity and mercy should preside over all judgments. It appeared most prudent for the king to govern his kingdom with suitable moderation, and to defend it from the irruptions of the barbarians.

“In the same year, the kings of France and England had an interview at Gisors, where they received the cross from the hands of the archbishop of Tyre. It was agreed that all the French Crusaders should wear a red cross, those of England a white cross, and those of the counts of Flanders a green one.[137]

Ralph says that when the cross was taken in England, a general tenth upon all property was levied, for the assistance of Jerusalem. This levy was made with so much violence as to terrify both the clergy and the people. Under the title of alms, it was enforced with a spirit of exaction and rapacity.

After this observation, the historian places the letters patent of Philip, king of France, and Richard, king of England, which order that the Crusaders should set out from both countries in the octave of Easter, under pain of excommunication and interdiction; and forbid any one to do injury to the Crusaders during their absence. These letters are dated 30th December.

Ralph Dicet’s work terminates in the year 1199. It is excellent for dates, and for many passages of it.

_No. 20._

_Ralph of Coggershall._

Ralph of Coggershall, an Englishman by birth, flourished about the year 1220, in the reign of Henry III., son of John. He was of the order of Citeaux. His merit and his learning raised him to the dignity of abbot of the monastery of Coggershall, in the county of Essex. He is the author of many works.

D. Martenne, when publishing Ralph’s “Chronicon Anglicanum,” is astonished, and apparently with reason, that the English, who are so jealous of the glory of their country, have shown such neglect for the works of this author, whom their scholars value so highly.

Ralph, like the other chroniclers, is dry and brief, and it is not before the invasion of Palestine by Saladin that he abandons the style of the chronicler to assume that of the historian.

After having spoken of the arrival of the kings of France and England in Sicily, of that which Richard did in the isle of Cyprus, of the victory which this prince gained over the Saracen vessels before landing at Acre, of the siege and reduction of that place, of the divisions which broke out between Philip Augustus and Richard, of the taking of several maritime cities by Richard, and of the death of the marquis of Montferrat, Ralph of Coggershall relates that the duke of Burgundy, left in Palestine by Philip Augustus, who had returned home, came to join Richard, in order to fight together against the enemies of Christ; and that it was resolved to go and besiege Jerusalem. He describes the victory which Richard gained over a rich caravan which was on its way to that city. He says, that while this prince was in his camp, before the castle of Ernald, and the duke of Burgundy, with his troops, was in the fortress of Betenoble, a spy came to warn the king that in the night he had heard some men and camels come down from the mountains, and that he had followed them. He added, that he had discovered they were sent by Saladin to the duke of Burgundy, and that the camels, to the number of five, were loaded with gold, silver, and silken vestments. The spy had orders from the king to take with him some of the king’s guards, and lie in ambush for the messengers of Saladin on their return. All which he did; he surprised them, took them, and brought them to the king. Richard drew from one of them by torture the secret intrusted to them. He acknowledged that the sultan had sent them to the duke. On the following day Richard sent for the duke, the patriarch, and the prior of Bethlehem. He had a private conference with them, and swore, before them, on the Gospel, that he was ready to go with his army and besiege Jerusalem, or Babylonia, or Berytus, without the possession of which places the king could not be crowned. Richard, after having taken this oath, desired the duke to take his. The duke refused, because the Templars and the French had assured him he should incur the anger of Philip, if Richard, by their means, triumphed in Jerusalem. Richard flew into a great rage, treated the duke as a traitor, and reproached him with receiving presents from Saladin. The duke denied all he was accused of. Then Richard sent for the messengers of Saladin. When they had been introduced, and had revealed their secret, the king ordered his guards to shoot them to death with arrows in presence of the whole army; which was done, without the troops of Richard or of the duke knowing the cause of this severity, or whence these messengers came, or what they had done. The duke of Burgundy, much ashamed, immediately retired with his troops, and took the road to Acre. Richard, upon hearing of this retreat, instantly sent messengers to the guards of the city, forbidding them to allow any Frenchman to enter. The duke encamped without the walls. The king struck his camp on the following day; and, following the duke, he also pitched his tents on the outside of the city.

Ralph then gives long details of the battle of Jaffa, which took place soon after. As this battle is one of those in which the valour and skill of Richard were displayed with the greatest advantage, and as the historians we have followed in our account of the third crusade, have only presented us with inexact details of this event, we think it but justice to the lion-hearted king to give an extract from that which Ralph says of it.

Richard had been reposing with his army three days before Ptolemaïs, when he was informed that Saladin was besieging Jaffa with all his troops; and that the city would soon be taken, and the garrison slaughtered, if he did not afford the besieged prompt assistance. Richard, afflicted with this news, endeavoured to bring back the duke of Burgundy to sentiments of concord; but this prince rejected all his advances, and set out with his troops that same night for Tyre. Shortly after arriving there, he finished his life miserably in the delirium of a fever; which Ralph considers as a just chastisement from heaven Richard embarks with a part of his army, and trusts himself to the seas; but the vessels were driven towards the isle of Cyprus, by contrary winds and the fury of the waves, so that they who remained on land believed that the king had retreated secretly. This likewise accounts for some authors having said that Richard went to the isle of Cyprus. The king, and those who accompanied him, after having struggled against the winds and waves for three days, at length succeeded, by rowing obliquely, in anchoring with three vessels in the port of Jaffa.

Saladin, by repeated assaults, had already rendered himself master of the city, and had put to death all the infirm and the wounded. The garrison had retired into the castle, and were already thinking of surrendering by capitulation, when the patriarch, who went freely from one army to the other, told them that Saladin’s soldiers had resolved to kill them all, to avenge their relations and friends, whom Richard had put to death without pity on several occasions; and that they would not escape death, if even Saladin should grant them permission to retire. In spite of this information, the garrison hesitated, and saw no hope of avoiding the fate which awaited them, when the vessels of the king appeared in the port. This sight restored their courage. On his part, Richard, perceiving that the fortress of the city was not taken, jumped on shore fully armed, followed by his troops, and like a furious lion, rushes amidst the hosts of enemies that cover the shore. He advances audaciously, through the arrows which pour upon him from all sides, cutting down all in his way. The Turks, unable to stand against such an attack, and believing that Richard had brought a more numerous army with him, precipitately abandoned the siege, and not without experiencing a great loss. They were so terrified, that nothing could stop them before they had got safely within the walls of Rœmula. The king, after this encounter, went boldly and pitched his tents under the walls of the city, in a plain near to Saint Abacue, for the Crusaders could not remain in the city on account of the odour arising from the dead killed on both sides, which had been placed, by mistake, by the side of a number of carcasses of pigs.

When it was announced to Saladin, on the following day, that Richard had arrived with only eighty soldiers, and the four hundred cross-bowmen who formed his guard, he broke into a great rage with his army, for having fled before so small a number. He immediately ordered his cavalry to return to Jaffa, and to bring him, the next day, the king alive and a captive.

That night Richard reposed tranquilly in his camp, suspecting nothing; when, at daybreak, the infidels surrounded his camp so completely, that there was no passage by which he could take refuge in the city. Three thousand Saracens entered Jaffa; and the Christians, awakened by noise and cries, were struck with terror at finding themselves enveloped on all sides.

At the sight of such a sudden danger, Richard quickly assumes his armour, mounts on horseback, and banishing all fear, appears, on the contrary, more bold in proportion with the number of his enemies. He animates his men to the fight; he tells them they ought not to fear death when they have to defend their religion, and avenge the insults offered to Christ; that it would be more glorious for them to fall for the law of Christ, and in falling, courageously to strike down his enemies, than to give themselves basely up to them, or to seek safety in a flight which was become impossible. Whilst addressing them thus, Richard ranged his companions in a close battalion, so that, during the combat, the enemy might be able to find no open space through which to break them. He then caused to be planted, at the foot of every one, tent-poles, which served them for a rampart. Whilst they were thus employed, as well as the time permitted, and that, on their side, the infidels, armed and waited, talking among themselves, one of the chamberlains of the king rushed from the city, and arrived at the camp, crying out with a lamentable voice, as it has been reported to us by Hugh de Nevil, who was in this battle, “Alas! my lord, we shall all perish; we have no resource left. A numberless multitude of pagans have got possession of the city, and we have before us troops as uncountable, who threaten us with death.” The king, in great anger, commanded him to be silent; and swore he would strike off his head if he dared to speak such words before any one of the soldiers. Richard immediately harangued his troop afresh; he exhorted them not to be terrified by the numbers of the pagans; he told them he would go into the city to ascertain what was passing; and, taking with him six determined warriors and the royal standard, he intrepidly enters Jaffa, opens himself a road with sword and lance, precipitates himself upon the enemies, who are assembled in the public places, attacks them, cuts them down, kills them. The warriors who accompany him overturn all they meet, and slaughter them without mercy. The irruption of the king was so sudden and so violent, that most who fell were ignorant what power it was that destroyed them. The enemies fled before the king, who pursued them as flocks fly before a lion inflamed by hunger.

Richard having, by his incomparable valour, cut down or put to flight the infidels who were in the city, made some of the soldiers of the garrison, who had retired into the castle, come and take charge of the gates and walls of the place.

After this incredible victory, the king returned with his six warriors to the army. Nevertheless, he was much afflicted at having so few horses; for there were but six and a mule in all the camp. To animate his soldiers still further, Richard related to them what the Lord had done in the city, by means of his arm, and how so small a number had triumphed over such a host of enemies: “For this reason,” exclaimed he, “let us invoke the aid of the all-powerful God, in order that he may to-day crush our enemies. Be sure to resist the first shock, and sustain courageously the violence of the first blows. Beware of breaking; for if separated, you will be torn to pieces like sheep, without strength and without defence. If, on the contrary, you can sustain the first charge without breaking, you will have nothing to fear from the courage of your enemies. You will triumph, with the help of God, over the enemies of Christ. But if I see any one of you show the least fear, or leave a passage for the enemy, or turn aside, I swear, by the all-powerful God, I will myself strike off his head.”

When the king had thus exhorted and animated his men to the fight, all raised their lances, and, by their prayers, invoked the assistance of God; but whilst many among them, no doubt, were reflecting that they had nothing but a cruel death before them, the sound of trumpets and the noise of clarions announced the approach of the infidels, who came down upon the Christians like a torrent, with their lances directed towards them, and uttering loud and frightful cries. The Turks expected that the Christians would give way at the first charge; that they would disperse over the plain; that their ranks would be broken; and that they would allow themselves to be cut to pieces almost without resistance. But the Christian battalion remained firm and motionless, without yielding a foot to either the terror or the violence of the assault. The Turks wondered at this unheard of audacity in so small a number, and reining up their horses, retired backwards some distance, yet not so far but that they might touch each other with their lances on both sides. Not an arrow was discharged, not a javelin was thrown; they only threatened each other with gesture, voice, and countenance. The Turks remained thus for half an hour, and then returned to their first position, murmuring and talking to themselves. They drew back from the Christians nearly half a stadium. Upon seeing this, the king broke into loud laughter, crying, “Brave soldiers of Christ! did not I tell you so? Did not I tell you they would not dare to measure themselves with you, unless we attacked them first? They have shown us all their courage, and everything that they thought could inspire us with fear and terror. They thought to frighten us by their numbers, and that we should not dare to resist their first charge. They expected us to submit, like women, to their blows, and fly here and there over the plain. Cursed be he now who would seek to avoid their charge, or who would fear to measure himself with them. Sustain their assaults with courage, as you have just done, until, with the help of God, we triumph over them.”

Richard had scarcely ceased to speak, when the infidels advanced afresh, uttering their cries, and sounding their trumpets; they, however, halted at a short distance from the Christians. The latter remaining motionless as before, and showing, if possible, greater intrepidity, the infidels returned a second time to their position, without venturing to strike a blow. They repeated this five or six times, from the first hour of the day to the ninth. Richard, who began to be tired of such long inactivity, and whose courage increased proportionately with the intrepidity of those around him, ordered his troop, when the infidels came down again, to launch some arrows and darts at them, and let them feel the points of their lances, so as to provoke them to fight. He commanded his cross-bowmen to march before the soldiers, and discharge their arrows, bolts, and javelins at the enemy, which was done; and when the Turks, according to their custom, advanced uttering hideous cries, and appeared ready to overwhelm the Christians, the latter attacked them with their lances, their swords, and all sorts of weapons, overthrowing them and killing them. The carnage soon produced cries of agony and disorder in the ranks of the enemy. Some were run through with lances, others were cast headlong from their horses; these were wounded in the head, those were pierced by arrows; and a vast number were slain by darts and javelins. The intrepid Richard, whose resplendent arms glittered like fire, and who had till that moment neither given nor received a wound, now all at once dashed amidst the infidel ranks, with his sword in one hand, and his lance in the other,[138] striking sparks from the helmets and armour of all he encountered, right and left. He rushed among the thickest of the enemy’s battalions, without seeking to avoid their blows, and without ceasing to deal mortal ones. At one time he was surrounded by a hundred Saracens, who attacked him alone. He falls upon them; he strikes off the head of one at a blow; he divides the shoulders from the body of another; he cuts off the hand of this one, and the arm of that one; others he overthrows, and renders incapable of defence. The rest disperse, and seek to avoid his blows. Richard inspires such terror that no one dares to wait for him, no one dares encounter him. The soldiers of Richard follow their king as they would have followed their standard; they penetrate the enemy, slaughtering without compunction, all who either resist or fall in their way. The infidels fall with lamentable cries; striking the earth with head and feet, and their lives gush out with their blood. Although they attacked the Christians with vigour, and hurled a shower of darts, it pleased God, however, that not one of their blows should be mortal, and that in this fight not a single Christian should perish, with the exception of one soldier, who, separating himself from his comrades, met with the death he wished to avoid by flight. The soldiers to whom Richard had confided the guarding of Jaffa, admiring the invincible courage of the king and his companions, issued in a body from the city, and fell with vigour upon the Turks. The latter, pursued without any intermission by Richard and his little army, took to flight, after losing a great number of their men, and concealed themselves in holes and caves.[139]

Ralph, of Coggershall, after describing this astonishing victory, says that Richard being attacked by the plague, determined to return into Europe. He gives an account, in a few words, of the treaty made with Saladin. He says that that which confirmed the king of England in the resolution of leaving Asia, was the news he received of his brother John’s attempts to usurp his authority in his kingdom. The battle of Jaffa was fought in the dog-days, and it was in the autumn that Richard set sail for Europe. The account which the author gives of the manner in which the king was made prisoner in Germany, is sufficiently curious to be repeated here. Ralph is the only one of the chroniclers we have analyzed who furnishes minute details on this subject.

King Richard, says he, with some of his people, was annoyed during six weeks, by a tempestuous sea. When he arrived within three leagues of Marseilles, and learnt that the Count de St. Gilles, and some other nobles, through whose states he must pass, had agreed to place ambushes for him, he resolved to return to England through Germany. He went back, and landed at the isle of Corfu. He found there two pirate vessels, which had had the audacity to attack his, and which his pilot recognised. Richard, on account of the courage and hardihood they had shown, made a bargain with the pirates, and agreed to go on board their vessels. He only took with him a small number of his people. These were Baldwin de Betune; Master Philip, the king’s clerk; Anselm, his chaplain, who himself related to us all he saw and heard; and some knights of the Temple. They landed on the coast of Sclavonia, at a city named Gazara. They immediately sent a messenger to the neighbouring castle, to request of the lord, who was master of the province, and nephew to the marquis of Montferrat, liberty to pass through his states. The king, on his return, had purchased three rubies of a Pisan, for which he gave nine hundred byzants. He had had one of these rubies set in a gold ring; and he charged the messenger to offer this ring to the lord of the castle. The latter inquired the names of those who demanded the passage. The messenger replied that they were pilgrims returning from Jerusalem, and he named Baldwin de Betune, adding that it was a merchant called Hugh, who sent him the ring. The lord of the castle, after having for a long time examined the present, replied to the messenger, “His name is not Hugh, but Richard, king of England. I have sworn,” added he, “that I will make prisoners of all pilgrims who come into this country, and that I will not receive any present from them; but on account of the value of this, and of the dignity of him who sends it, and who has honoured me thus without knowing me, I return you the ring, and I grant free liberty of passage.” The messenger went and reported this answer to the king. The pilgrims, very little satisfied with the message, left the city secretly in the night, mounted upon horses they had purchased, and made the best of their way across the country. But the lord sent a spy after them, to follow their steps and arrest the king. When Richard entered a city in which dwelt the brother of the lord, the latter called to him a trustworthy person, named Roger d’Argenten, a Norman by birth, who had been with him twenty years, and to whom he had given his niece in marriage; and ordered him to go to all the houses in which pilgrims lodged, and endeavour to discover, by language, or by some other sign, if the king were not among them. He promised him half the city if he could arrest the prince. Roger, after a long search, discovered the king, who for a considerable time dissembled, and was only induced to reveal himself by the prayers and tears of Roger. The latter immediately advised Richard to steal away, and gave him the best horse he could procure. He then went to his master, and told him that the news of the arrival of Richard was false, and that it was only Baldwin de Betune and his companions, who were returning from pilgrimage. But the master flew into a great rage, and ordered them all to be arrested. The king had left the city secretly with William de l’Etang, and a servant who understood the German language. He travelled three days and three nights without taking any food. At last, pressed by hunger, he turned from his road, to enter a city called Ginana, in Austria, on the Danube. To complete his ill fortune, the duke of Austria was then at Ginana. The king’s servant, on going to the market, displayed several byzants, and created suspicions by his discourse; he was arrested and interrogated. He answered that he served a rich merchant, whom he expected in three days. He was then released; and he went instantly to the king, relating to him what had happened, and advising him to depart without delay. But the king, who was fatigued, determined to rest for a few days. The servant, after going to the market to buy provisions, had one day the imprudence to carry with him the king’s gloves, stuck in his girdle. These gloves were very remarkable, and the servant was again arrested. Being taken before a magistrate of the city, he was put to the torture, and threatened with having his tongue cut out if he did not at once reveal the truth. The servant yielding to the agony of the _question_, made the confession demanded of him. Information was instantly sent to the duke; the house in which the king lodged was surrounded, and he was summoned to surrender. The king declared he would only surrender to the duke himself. The latter arrived, and the king, making a few steps to meet him, gave up his sword to him.[140] The duke, highly elated, led away the king, whom he treated honourably. He afterwards placed guards about him, who never left him, night or day, but kept watch, with drawn swords in their hands.

After this recital, Ralph makes many sad reflections upon the captivity of Richard, which he can only explain as a secret judgment of God, so astonishing and deplorable does it appear to him, that a king who had escaped so many dangers in Syria, should become the prisoner of a Christian prince, without having an opportunity to defend himself or give battle. He follows the king through his captivity, and describes his deliverance and return to his dominions. He gives an account of what happened to this prince when he had regained his kingdom, and pursues his history to the time of his death, which was in 1229. Ralph has drawn such a portrait of Richard as cannot fail to interest our readers, on account of the prominent part which that king has played in the history of the crusades.

“We had reason to hope,” says he, “that Richard, considering the liberality of his excellent mind and his great skill in the art of war, would be the model of Norman kings. In the early days of his reign he was affable to everybody; being well disposed in religious affairs, and inclined to listen to just demands; he immediately filled up the vacant bishoprics and abbeys. He promised to render justice to all. He restored to many, for sums of money, their charters, privileges, and liberties, or else renewed them. The money he thus obtained served as means for his voyage to Jerusalem. He quitted his kingdom almost immediately afterwards, and commenced his expedition with much devotion, great preparation, and infinite expense. God protected him throughout, and caused him to escape all the dangers of this war; and, by his help, the king wrested from the hands of the infidels a great portion of the Holy Land. God still evidently watched over him during his return and his captivity, and preserved him from the hands of new and numerous enemies. But when Richard was restored to his subjects, he forgot the victorious hand that had preserved him: in the maturity of age he took no pains to correct the vices which had disfigured his youth. He displayed so much harshness and obstinacy, that he tarnished by excessive severity all the virtues that had graced the commencement of his reign. He always turned a threatening eye upon those who talked to him of state affairs; he made reproaches or censures with a terrible air, and showed a furious countenance to those who did not satisfy his demands for money, or perform the promises they had made to pay him some. In private he was affable and winning, and even condescended to play or to joke. He was so greedy of money that he wished to empty every purse. He pressed the English to such a degree, in order to discharge the amount of his ransom, that he spared no order and no condition. Nevertheless, Hubert, archbishop of Canterbury and justiciary of the kingdom, mitigated, as much as he could, the effects of the cruel edicts of the king.”

Ralph, in another part of his works, after having praised the new king of England for having restored to the ecclesiastical benefices their revenues and their titularies, adds, that Richard took great delight in the divine service, and particularly in the solemnities of religion. He says that his chapel was richly ornamented; that he accompanied, with his sonorous voice, and encouraged by presents, the singers of the church; but that from the _secrète_ of the mass to the _post-communion_, he prayed in silence, and with an earnestness which nothing could disturb. He afterwards names two abbeys which he founded or repaired, both of the order of Citeaux; one was that of Bon-Port, in Normandy, in the diocese of Rouën; the other, that of the Pine, in the diocese of Poictiers.

_No. 21._

The continuator of the history of William of Tyre relates nothing which is not found in the text, except a little trick which Saladin attempted to play off upon Richard, at the time of the battle of Jaffa, and which we think worthy of being presented to our readers. We quote the chronicle:—

“Saladin asked where the king of England was. They answered him, Sire, see him yonder on the ground, on foot, with his men.’ How,’ said Saladin, is the king on foot among his men; is he not ashamed?’ Then Saladin sent him a horse, and charged the messenger to say, that such a one as he should not be on foot among his men in such danger. The sergeant performed the commands of his lord. He came to the king and presented to him the horse sent by Saladin. The king thanked him for it, and ordered one of his own sergeants to mount it and show its paces before him. After the sergeant had spurred the horse into a gallop, and wished to return towards his master, he found he could not; for the horse, in spite of all he could do, carried him away to the Saracen host. Saladin was much ashamed of this.”

This chronicle, when speaking of the deliverance of Richard from his captivity, does not hesitate to say that it was by the advice of Philip Augustus, that such an enormous ransom was required, and that the king of France had a good share of it.

Another chronicler, Gauthier Vinisauf, says that Richard gave eight noble Turkish prisoners in exchange for William de Protelles (others name him Porcelot), who had saved his master, when taken by surprise, by throwing himself in the way of the Saracens, exclaiming, “I am King Richard.”

_No. 22._

_Extract from an anonymous Chronicle contained in the MSS. of the Sorbonne, No. 454, of the Thirteenth Century._[141]

Then the king Richard turned back, and directed his course as straight and as well as he was able towards Germany, where he landed, and, with a small train, wandered about till he came to Austria (Osterriche), where he was watched by spies, and known. When he fancied he was discovered, he took the dress of a servant, and set to work in the kitchen to turn the capons; but the spy knew him, and went and informed the duke; and when the duke heard it, he sent so many knights and people that they were much the stronger, and the king was taken and sent away to a fortress, and his companions to another; and the king was sent from castle to castle, so that no one knew where he was, nor did the soldiers who guarded him know who he was.

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